


Descent Into Hell

by ZaiaFantasy



Series: Hellmouth Trilogy [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dreaming, Feral, Feral!Giles, Hellmouth, Magic, Trapped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-06-25 23:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaiaFantasy/pseuds/ZaiaFantasy
Summary: Sequel to Rehabilitation - Giles sacrifices himself into the Hellmouth to save the world. There's hope that he may be rescued but in the meantime he's trapped within hell. Even for such a talented Watcher it's a steep learning curve. How does he survive in such a terrible place and can he hold on long enough to be rescued? - please R&R! Rated M for violence and adult language





	1. Prologue

“The only way to close it is from inside.”

I can’t bring myself to look her in the eye as I explain, the vortex swirling just beyond us both. This close I realize how perfectly beautiful she is, how exotic and alluring, perhaps the delusional thoughts of a man that knows he’s about to die but all the same... she’s lovely. She’s also likely the last person I’ll ever talk to. I know what’s about to happen and soon enough she does, too. Her eyes widen as the thought finally occurs to her, a ragged intaken breath heralds the realization. 

“God damnit! You didn’t have to do this!”

We both know I did, it was never a question. As Watcher it’s my job to guide the slayer and protect her life, and the world, from evil at all costs. When someone tears open a hole to the Hellmouth if I can repair it, before it starts pouring all of it’s evil into the world, I must. 

“I don’t give a shit about the world!” I see tears beginning to gloss her brown eyes and marvel at it. Crying for me? I never would have imagined it. “What do I tell everyone?”

Dear thing. I reach up to cup her cheek, guiding her to look at me. A tear slips and I swipe it away with my thumb, studying her face for a few good moments. I take in everything about her: how beautiful she is, how vulnerable she looks, how strong she’s trying to be, and how much I’d like nothing more than to be able to comfort her. Time doesn’t allow for it so I give her a smile instead, resigned to my fate. 

“Tell them I’m proud of them. And you.”

Her lips are on mine and I honestly don’t know if she reached for me or if I reached for her. One last kiss - make it count old man. It burns much more than the evil I’m bound to find inside the Hellmouth and for a moment I indulge in the fantasy that this is not simply her reaction to the great possibility of my death, that she’s kissed me because she wants to. It’s a wonderful act of kindness, I can’t belittle her intention. I’ve watched her grow from a rebellious youth to a beautiful and strong young woman, a story I’m quite familiar with, and I am extremely proud of her. Damned if her kiss doesn’t burn its way through my body all the same. 

We part, she’s got her hands balled on my jacket lapels. I gently extricate her. The vortex is opening further and evil doesn’t wait for goodbyes. This has been beautiful, poetic even, but it can’t last. I take a step back, the magic latches on to my legs and begins to pull me back toward the Hellmouth. She watches; I can feel her eyes on mine. The steps I’m taking toward the rift are no longer something I can control, the magic pulling me in. Our eyes stay locked until I fall back. I’m plummeting, quickly working a spell from the inside to close the portal behind me. It’s satisfying as I see the magic begin to mend the tear and whatever sacrifice I’ve made is worth it. 

The world is safe.

Buffy is safe. 

So is Faith. 

Faith....

Her image is the last thing I see before everything goes black.


	2. Day 1 - An Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Giles is formally introduced to the Hellmouth

Pain. 

It sings through my body and I’m quite aware that I’m still alive. Opening my eyes brings my awareness up in full and more pain shoots down my spine sharp enough to make me grit my teeth. Moving is not an inviting prospect but there’s a part of me that knows lying here is bound to end in disaster. I push myself to my knees and sit back, shaking my head in an effort to clear it. Things feel muddy and this time without the benefit of a fine, aged scotch. I don’t know how much time has passed. There’s no sun or moon here to signify the days. In fact, looking above me there doesn’t appear to be any sort of sky at all. Overhead looks like a murky brown with a red undertone but I can’t make out a depth or defining features. Certainly no hole I can escape from which, I suppose, means I did my job well enough.

Looking around I see lush foliage - trees and thick underbrush that remind me of something better suited to South America than the Hellmouth. Like the jungles, I assume that there’s danger lurking around every corner. Likely I’m on the lower end of the food chain here and I have no interest in putting myself on a demon’s menu. I’m not sure I believe that I’m going to be rescued, but I’m sure as hell not going to make it easy for the inhabitants to take me down. This is entirely new territory. The stories of humans lost in the Hellmouth are myths, knowledge mere educated conjecture. Truly, we can’t understand the full breadth of our nightmares until we’re stuck inside them. The notion that I’m here, alone, tugs at the edge of my consciousness. I quickly tamp it down even as the beginnings of panic cause my heart to thump madly. 

“Bugger.”

Getting to my feet is a monumental task and the ground rolls as I try to stand. No, not the ground, I realize. It only takes a moment before I’m stumbling to a tree. My hands dig into the rough bark as I retch, bile tasting sour and unwelcome in my mouth. Well, bloody brilliant. The smell wafts up, filling my senses with an acrid smell that makes me feel nauseated all over again. My body rebels and I push away from the tree trunk, staggering toward the curling leaves of a thick, green bush. Surely something noticed me plummeting from the sky; It’s a miracle I wasn’t slaughtered while unconscious. And, let’s face it, I have no familiarity here to fall back on; my textbooks won’t help me now. 

I wish I’d paid just a bit more attention during survival training in the Academy. The course was only a formality and hardly covered any of the skills necessary to survive in an actual situation like this. It mostly had to do with fighting just enough to allow yourself the chance to run away. It had very little do with the basics one would need if they were to suddenly find themselves stranded alone in a foreign land if I can be forgiven for the stretch of the word foreign, somehow it doesn’t quite convey accurately just how far removed this place is from anything I know to be normal. A tightness starts pulling at my belly that has nothing to do with hunger and I press on into the overgrown jungle. 

“Come on,” I mutter. “You’re reasonably intelligent. How hard can this be?”

For the moment I haven’t been approached by any of the nasty demons I know to reside here. Either nothing worthwhile is hungry or I’m simply too weak to be worth noticing. That last bit is probably just fanciful thinking and only mildly insulting but right now it’s not my ego I’m worried about being injured. 

Fire. 

I don’t know what time of day it is, or even if this place has days as I know them but warmth is a safe bet. I’ll need to find a place to keep warm, in case it gets cold, and a shelter to hide in until I can figure things out. The only weapon I have is the knife I brought with me when this madness all began. There was a sword but, bugger me, I didn’t think to grab it while I was trying to devise a way to close the rift. It had been the knife I needed to tie my magic to the spell that opened the portal. I’d have to make due until something better came along. 

The jungle is dense as I try to trek across and I take care to be as alert as I can be as I move through the brush. There are plants here that feel familiar but look like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Barring a change or two I might be walking through thick, curling ferns or creeping kudzu vines. Movement catches my attention to the right, a small herd of demons goes scampering away from the trail I’m following. It’s truly fascinating and I stare as the small brown things with hunched bodies lope over the terrain and disappear immediately into the greenery. Try as I might to make them out I can’t. The thought sends a shiver down my spine; I was not born to the life of a fighter or a naturalist. 

Ahead I hear a sound that nearly moves me to tears. Breaking into a sprint that doesn’t agree with my body, I carry myself ahead to follow the sound. By the time I make it to the edge of the trees my lungs are exhaling fire and my body is throbbing with more of the same giving personification to the hell I’m surrounded by. The sight before me, however, makes the effort expended wholly worthwhile. Water. May I never take something so simple for granted again. The stream bubbles past me heading what I can only assume is south, but there’s no logical basis for that aside from a few educated guesses. The water is a great deal murkier than I was hoping for which means using magic to purify it. The pollutants and bacteria on Earth are vile enough, I can only imagine how much worse it might be in the Hellmouth. 

I kneel beside the stream and look down realizing for the first time how thirsty I am; the running didn’t help that. It’s then that I realize I have nothing to gather the water with except for my hands and, unless it’s purified, that’s a dangerous notion. My heart falls and I sigh, falling back from the balls of my feat to sit in the soft loam of the embankment. What is it Faith would say? Oh, yes.

“Fuck.”

In momentary defeat my mind drifts back to London and the nice bottle of scotch waiting for me on a glass tray in my study unless Faith’s already gotten to it, in which case it may well be gone before I return. I’m careful to avoid the word if, even in my head. The thought of the liquor is soothing and I know it’ll be harder here without anything to take the edge off. Leave it to me to want to fall back to bad habits when in a bind. In many ways, I’m still that rogue young man searching for a life of my own making. 

Well, if I’m going to try to survive here, I ought to make the best of it. I pick up a solid limb and begin cutting it down to size, hollowing out the core of the wood with my knife. The process takes more time and energy than I’d like but when I’m finished there’s a pile of wood shavings at my feet and a makeshift cup in my hand. It’s rudimentary at best, the bark will have to be peeled away little by little over time, but I think I can enchant the thing to purify water. Wind picks up and it feels like a gale throwing a spray of water over my body. I shiver violently, huddling against a tree. Apparently, there’s no such thing as a breeze here. Shivering, I have no choice but to wait for the wind to die down hunkered between the thick tree trunk and a thick shrub of indeterminate origin. Water swirls around my body, sinking into my clothing. With how strong the winds are, I’m drenched immediately and begin to shiver despite how warm I estimated it was just a moment ago. 

“Blast!” 

I shrink closer into the bush but it doesn’t seem to be doing much good, wind whipping through the tender branches like they aren’t even there. I’m being pelted so hard it stings. I can’t stay here, that’s becoming increasingly obvious. Standing, I start running away from the stream without the water I was craving. The effort for the cup seems wasted for a moment but that’s a secondary concern now to fire and shelter. 

I hear a growl to my right that makes my blood run cold. My stomach clenches as I turn around. The demon looks weak, which is something in my favor, but he also appears to be hungry. I don’t recognize the species right off but that’s hardly a pressing thought as it swipes a set of wicked looking claws at me. They catch my arm; I howl in pain as it races through me. I grope for the knife only to discover it’s not at my belt like I thought. Panic rises and I force it down, narrowing my gaze as the demon moves forward, seemingly compelled by the blood now gushing from a gash down my arm. It hurts like hell and the blood is certain to attract other stronger predators. I shake my head and spot a thick tree branch. It’s a little primitive but I swing it as hard as I can at the blighter’s head. It connects and the beast is tossed sideways. It hits the ground and I’m off like a shot, though my body is protesting heavily at the speed I’m trying to reach. My morning jogs miraculously have not prepared me for sprinting in a dense jungle with a demon giving chase. 

It manages to stay close on my heels though I hardly spare a glance back more than once to make sure. My foot gets caught in a hole in the ground, I catch myself on my hands and manage not to fall completely, using a sprinter’s start to shoot out ahead. I hear a howl behind me and cast one more look back to see the demon being overrun by smaller demons, presumably those that lived in the hole I’d disturbed. I shudder as I see blood fly and hear wet, ripping sounds but I don’t dare slow my pace. It doesn’t feel good to be right about the dangers of the jungle. 

I keep running until I have no more steam left. It’s only then that I buckle, my knees giving out from under me. I crash to the ground and struggle to breathe. My entire body is wracked with more pain so intense my eyes close and I grit my teeth. The injury to my arm reminds me anew how badly it needs to be tended. Somehow, almost if by divine intervention, I have the cup still in hand. The knife is a loss I’ll sorely miss but at least I’m still alive. 

As I roll onto my back I notice the sky’s muddy brown has darkened to a chocolate with that red tint coming through. Whatever is happening, it’s about to get dark and I don’t want to be exposed out here when it does.


	3. Night Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Giles tries to find shelter

It’s gotten so dark that stumbling along through the jungle is all but impossible. I can only go by feel and nothing I touch feels like shelter. I don’t have any other choice. Groping for any sort of branch, I find one of suitable size and mutter a few words of power under my breath. The magic nearly knocks me from my feet as explosive as it is. I’m knocked back a few steps and stare at the branch in wonder. It’s on fire, as I intended, but the fire seems to be a living thing all on its own with dark tendrils of magic laced into the natural orange flames. The dark veins twist and turn as the torch burns, almost hypnotic. This place is entirely too full of surprises for my liking. 

Using the new light I make my way carefully through the dense foliage toward an unknown destination. It doesn’t get cold but a chill wind sweeps across my path every so often cutting through my jacket. Shivering, I scan every inch of space the torch lights looking for any dangers and any lead toward shelter. I have no pride here, running may be my only means of survival until I can get used to the challenges here. The steep learning curve is going to be hard to climb but I have faith that I can manage. If for nothing else I should like to see Buffy again, the family I’ve created with the Slayer and her friends. My heart aches with the thought of them. Scrambling, I see a cave ahead that may well suit my needs as equally as it might put me in mortal danger. It’s just a shallow cave in a rock outcropping but something tells me that I should get used to small spaces. Thankfully, I’m not unused to having only my own company. 

Getting close to the cave a sweep of the torch shows an empty crevice. There’s enough room for me to build a fire and be comfortably away from it. I doubt I’ll sleep, but I should at least try. Maybe the fire will be a deterrent against intruders as it is with animals in my dimension. It may be too much to ask for. 

I tend to the wound on my arm as best I can. It’s jagged, but not especially long. It hurts like hell as I examine it, clotted blood breaking open to seep anew. It probably needs stitches and my handkerchief is sacrificed to become a tight bandage. I can’t clean it as well as I’d like without water and I was chased away from the stream before I could do anything to that end. All I can do is wait, and hope. If I lose the use of my arm...well, better not to think such things. 

Gathering a few thick branches, I build a fire at the edge of the cave. Using the torch to light the bundle, the same black streaks snake through the growing fire which I can only assume is from the magic that created them reacting to this new environment. I want to bring a larger rock in front of the entrance for added protection but my muscles protest even the thought of more physical labor. It’s all I can do to gather enough branches for the fire before I collapse onto the hard stone floor of the cave. My stomach growls and I sigh. Trying anymore magic will completely wear me out and I can’t afford to let my vigilance slip. Besides, even if I could somehow snare any small prey I have exactly no idea what’s edible for a human here. It may be starvation that takes me before a demon can. 

No!

Don’t think like that.

They’re waiting for you. She’s waiting for you.

Her kiss is still a warmth on my lips that I can’t help but miss. She’s capable of such sweetness; it’s a wonder no one has noticed. Beneath that strength is a bright young woman with every bit of promise, the same as Buffy. I wish I could show her all of the things I see in her, but she’s too far for me to do anything now. 

“We’ll find you.” 

Do it soon I beg you; this place is horrendous. 

A snap of a tree branch has me jerking awake. I don’t even remember falling asleep but every nerve in my body sings with new awareness. All thoughts of sleep are immediately pushed from mind. I can’t see past the fire which is a liability if I’m going to be attacked. The rumbling growl suggests I might. It’s terribly inconvenient not to have a weapon just now. It was probably attracted to the light from my fire, blast it all! Apparently demons are not as put off by fire as their animal counterparts. In the meantime, I scramble to get to my knees, searching for a branch sticking out from the fire to use as a weapon. It’s not much, but possibly I can make good use of it to get away. This is only going to work so many times before inevitably failing. Let that be a problem for later, not right now. 

The sleek demon is on four legs, like a beast, but the leathery hide does little to disguise how sinister it is. There are claw marks along its haunches, healed over with time but still light colored scars. Its head is low to the ground with snarls being emitted every few seconds. He’s sniffing, but I don’t know for what reason. I watch curiously, tree limb in my hand. It sniffs the ground again and lets out a sharp exhalation, tendrils of smoke issued from its mouth. No, not smoke. My God! It’s magic. The thing is breathing magic! I let out a sound and its head snaps up, focused on me. The eyes are clouded blue and I realize he hasn’t seen me at all. It was drawn to the smell of the fire, perhaps. 

It breathes in and the black tendrils from the fire are pulled from the flames and into its mouth. The fire promptly goes out and I’m left in utter darkness - an advantage to the beast, not so for me. It growls and my eyes have no yet adjusted to the darkness. It may as well be pitch with a reddish underglow overhead much too far away to be of use. Blinded, I don’t dare move as I wait tensely for the demon to make its move. If nothing else, I’m almost certain it can smell the blood on me. What I don’t know is whether it feeds on meat or magic...possibly both, which does not bode well for me. 

A booming yell erupts from the darkness. Christ! I take a step back and feel rock at my back, preventing an attack from behind. The beast lets out a growl, at me or this new enemy, I don’t know. I’m struggling to see more than just in front of my face, but at least I’m beginning to recognize outlines. The thing coming toward us is a hulking mass, vaguely humanoid but much too thick to be as fast as it appears. The Hellmouth is just full of surprises, it seems. The smaller demon sprints off as the bigger one gets within a few yards of my makeshift camp. I’m sweating profusely, wishing for a decent weapon but, alas, I have nothing to match the wicked looking axe in its right hand. The head of the axe measures twice of mine in width and three times mine in height. He holds it in one hand as if it weighs nothing at all though I estimate with the metals it likely weighs more than a hundred pounds. 

He sets the axe down and leans the handle against a tree as he approaches. He scents the air, the intricate dots on his head lighting up as they travel from to the back of his head. 

“Fascinating,” I murmur, unable to help it.

“Hu-man?”

I blink. “I beg your pardon?”

“You. Hu-man?”

“Yes,” my voice wavers, much to my chagrin. “I’m human.” 

“You in danger.”

“From you?”

“No. Enemy. Pack animal. That thing dangerous.”

“Truly incredible. How do you speak English?”

“Family from your dimension.” 

My heart clenches so hard it almost hurts. “You have family from Earth? Can I speak to them?”

“All dead. Long dead.” 

My face falls; so much for that bit of luck. “How did they come here?”

“Fell from sky. Bad deal, mostly.”

“They made deals with demons.”

The one in front of me nods, looking patient and curious. The bioluminescence continues to flash in different patterns as we speak, all inevitably leading back to the curl at the base of its head. I can make a few educated guesses as to what purpose it serves but, honestly, I’d like not to press my luck at the moment by asking. 

“Come with. You die alone.”

He picks up his axe, waving me along like a small child. For a moment I’m indecisive; knowing how to speak my language is not an assurance that he’s safe for me. Still, the other options are none too appealing considering how many demons have wanted to hurt me since I’ve been in this hideous place. With a shrug, and against my better sense, I move to follow him.


	4. Culture Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Giles finds an unlikely ally

My new companion says his name is Molvoxses. He’s a Haflin demon. I’ve never heard of the species before but as we walk through the jungle I make notes. He’s certainly agile for being large - either that or he has exceptional night vision. When I stumble he patiently turns his head back toward me to see if I’ve managed to pick myself up. As soon as I’m on my feet he’s back to his steady pace. Sweat is pouring from my skin and I slip off my jacket, wondering just how the temperature here can fluctuate to such extremes within hours. Just when I’m certain I’ll pass out if I have to walk ten more paces he pushes some thick branches aside and motions me into the hidden doorway beyond. I have to stoop to enter which I can only imagine means that my new friend has to practically crawl since he’s taller than me by nearly two heads. 

For a split second I’m worried that putting myself in this position is a very foolish mistake I won’t live to regret. 

I cross a stone threshold and straighten to an empty cavern. It appears to be sculpted from pure granite though I can’t see any signs of carving. It’s almost as if the stone was shaped with magic, or something similar. I stand there marveling, it’s really rather lovely, and fail to notice that my companion has managed to make it inside behind me. He claps me on my shoulder and I wince. His hand covers my entire shoulder and the morbid thought that if he chose to he could easily jerk the arm clean from my body passes my mind. 

“Welcome to lair, human!”

“Do you live alone?”

“Not anymore.”

He moves to a pit in the middle of the room, well back from the door. Looking around, I estimate the room to be nearly thirty feet long and just as wide. My friend can walk around comfortably at his full height. He bends next to the pit and picks up two pieces of wood, sawing them against one another quickly. 

“Here, allow me.” 

It’s the least I can do to repay him for his kindness. Magic lights around my hands and he stumbles back, looking as if he expects me to attack. I banish the magic immediately, holding up my hands in surrender. He doesn’t look at me. 

“No, my friend, no. It’s not what you think. I won’t hurt you.”

“You cannot use!” He hisses. “Magic bad!”

“It is?” 

“Strong. Others sense. They fight, kill. They want.”

Oh. My expression falls. “Truly I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I would do nothing to jeopardize your home.”

“No magic.”

“No, no magic,” I repeat, a promise. 

He nods and goes back to his fire pit, picking up the two pieces of wood again. I notice that they’ve been carved in a specific way to allow air to pass as he moves them. There’s shavings underneath. He saws faster and faster until there’s smoke. He picks up the bundle and blows into it gently until it ignites. I start but he simply sets the flaming tinder into the pit and covers it with smaller twigs until they catch and then larger branches until soon enough there’s a large, warm fire blazing between us. 

I’m trying committing the details to memory but I’m not sure I can duplicate the practice yet. 

“Remarkable.”

“You learn.”

“I’ll learn,” I promise, “but it may take me awhile.”

“It is well.”

He moves to the back of the cave and returns with meat. The stuff is almost jet black, I don’t want to ask what it came from, which he spits with a stick and leans it over the fire. It hisses and sizzles; I try not to turn an unpleasant shade of green. While it cooks, and I’m man enough to admit that even though the idea of it is repulsive I know I haven’t eaten for a full day. Sooner or later I’ll need to find a way to feed myself. I doubt a vegetarian diet is feasible in a place like this - the body craves protein. Sooner or later I’ll have to cross that threshold. I simply don’t know how yet. There may be species that are more edible than the hunk of meat sizzling away in front of me now.

“You eat.”

“No, thank you.”

He thrusts the stick toward me and I try to demure, holding my hands up in front of my body to decline. I shake my head even as he insists. It smells horrible and I am certain I don’t want anything to do with it. I certainly can’t blame his intentions, he means well, but my companion does not understand. His brow furrows in concern. The fact that he was trying to feed and take care of me at all gave me a fairly accurate impression of just how humans are viewed in the Hellmouth, rare as they probably are. 

After several unsuccessful moments of this play, I’ve had enough. “I can’t!” I exclaim at last, out of options. 

“Why?”

“It’s…” I feel an unpleasant tightness in my chest; I certainly don’t want to insult his hospitality. “It’s just not something I can eat, I’m afraid. No good for humans.”

“Other humans eat.”

I can feel the color draining from my cheeks and swallow the bile the statement induces.

“I’m not that hungry yet, then.”

Molvoxses nods; I try to smile encouragement. My stomach keeps making distressing flip flops until he pulls the meat away. Only once the smell is lessened can I breathe out a sigh of relief. My demonic companion nods, indicating a space not too far from the fire.

“You rest.”

The idea sounds lovely. I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep but my arm is throbbing with such pain I doubt I could put it aside. I grimace, shaking my head.

“I can’t. My arm…”

I hold up my bandaged arm, bloody and possibly getting infected as we speak. He runs a hand over the ridges on his head. The lights dance with the movement and flicker in the firelight which is a pretty contrast, violet and orange. He gets up after a moment and heads out of sight around a ridge in the cavern’s makeup. He returns with crude looking instruments, and strips of hide that I choose to pretend comes from some sort of animal I’ve yet to see. They’re hairy, which makes the sell easier. I cringe anyway, much to my chagrin.

“Need help.”

“I know.”

He sits beside me, dwarfing me by quite a bit. I’m just over six feet in height and still he towers shoulders above me. His bulk belies his gentility, as does the axe he carries. He picks up my arm and unwinds the bandage, pausing as I hiss in pain when the temporary clotting is broken and fresh pain wracks my body. He examines the wound and takes a foul smelling concoction from a small vessel. As he slathers it on my arm it’s all I can do to keep from howling. The stuff burns like fire and when I chance to look down the wound is bubbling, bubbling, coated in a thick brown ointment. I grit my teeth, my other hand is clenched in a tight fist. It’s bloody hellacious, disregarding the pun, and I’m not sure I can stand it. It’s much easier to beg for the release of unconsciousness that doesn’t come.

After much too long a time my body goes limp, but I’ve not passed out yet. I stare up at the demon a bit pathetically but the pain has ebbed. In fact, I can’t produce any movement or feeling in my arm at all. I look down helplessly as it hangs limply by my side. I groan, picking the limb up to set in my lap.

“What did you do?”

“Clean.”

I look down at the red and brown mess dripping off my skin onto my pants. My tone rises a little, much to my chagrin. “That’s clean?”

He shrugs. “Will heal.”

God, I bloody well hope so.


End file.
